


Playing Dirty

by SergeantMoosche



Series: Perceptor's device [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Porn Without Plot, Sticky, valve play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantMoosche/pseuds/SergeantMoosche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Excuse title) . . . Perceptor decides to have some fun while Drift's in a meeting, soon escalating quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries and titles. 
> 
> SO excuse them both and have some terribly written interfacing between my favourite bots; Perceptor and Drift. 
> 
> This may sound like I'm begging, but I need some feedback to see how well you all think I've done this since I slightly struggle writing whatever's in my head. I made Perceptor's personality very wibbly wobbily and it's just a mess.
> 
> I hope you enjoy 
> 
> Fun fact: this is the longest and only finished piece of smut I've written

Drift sat in the middle of a meeting with Rodimus and Ultra Magnus about the welfare of their crew after Fort Max rampaged through the ship. Drift glanced to Rodimus, who’s helm was hanging off the back of his chair from boredom as Ultra Magnus droned on. Drift was tempted to do the same or just rest him helm on the table. But he knew he’d be the one who gets caught doing it.  
  
“Rodimus!” Magnus roared, snapping the captain back to attention and almost fall off the chair. “Pay attention. This is for your benefit to the crew.”  
  
Rodimus huffed and folded his arms over his chest, pouting. Drift smirked behind his hand resting against his mouth. Until he felt something slide into his valve. He jumped at the sudden feeling of his valve stretching around something and almost squirmed. He could faintly hear the sound of soft laughter in his audial. His hips almost bucked as whatever managed to find its way into his valve twisted and turned over the nodes beautifully.  
  
“Drift?” Rodimus frowned after Drift involuntarily squirmed in his seat. “Are you alright?”  
  
“Fine.” Drift smiled, desperately trying to ignore the thrusting of the object or whatever it was.  
  
“You sure?” Rodimus asked. “I can hear your cooling fans kicking in.”  
  
“I’m just warm.” Drift dismissed. “I’ll be fine once this meeting has end-ED”  
  
Ultra Magnus heard the yelp from Drift and turned to scold the white mech. He could see that Drift’s jaws was clenched together to stop any more sounds from emitting from is vocal box. Magnus’s optics squinted and opened his mouth to discipline when Rodimus spoke up.  
  
“I accidentally kicked Drift’s shin.” Rodimus smirked. “I apologise.”  
  
Magnus turned back to the board behind him, explaining the wrong way of using punctuation in the report. Meanwhile, Drift’s ventilations sped up as the object, spike, whatever it was, was thrust deep into his valve, teasing the ceiling node. He gripped the table, almost making claw marks across the edge from the tight grip. It sped up and Drift felt his valve clench on nothing. Then he started to panic. How was he feeling so good and not have anything play with his nodes?  
  
He bit down on a knuckle as his valve started to clamp down more often, his overload coming up fast.  
  
“Magnus, I suggest that Drift should go and see Ratchet. He’s over-heating and it’s getting to a point where it’s worrying me.” Rodimus spoke out for Drift as Drift panted.  
  
Magnus turned to scowl at Drift before excusing him. “Make sure Ratchet double checks your systems. The red rust virus could be flaring up.”  
  
Drift nodded as a thank you before running out the room and to his own room. Once he got to the safety of his and Perceptor’s room and shut the door, he collapsed to his knees, hips rocking into the charge as the overload rattled his frame. He cried out loudly and clawed the surface of the door as the object pressed deep into him, slowly twisting and prolonging the overload. He whimpered and panted against the door, lubricant dripping into a puddle on the floor from when his interface hatch opened. He rested his helm against the door, finally coming down from his overload. He felt the object slide from his still clenching valve and he shuddered.  
  
“I see it works very well.”  
  
Drift turned his gaze to the scientist that emerged from the washrack with a playful glee on his smile. Drift glared dangerously at Perceptor, almost growling. Perceptor still smirked and leaned against the washrack doorway, fiddling with a device. The white mech soon smirked, making the scientist frown and straighten his posture.  
  
Somehow, Drift had got Perceptor on his back on the berth with the swords-mech straddling his waist. Perceptor frowned up at the smirking mech, trying to figure out how fast he was.  
  
“How?”  
  
“I can be fast if I want to be.” Drift purred. “If you wish to play it that way and almost make me overload in front of both Rodimus and Ultra Magnus . . . Hm . . . then I wonder where your boundaries lie.”  
  
Perceptor’s cheeks darkened in colour and he gaped up at Drift.  
  
“Were you just going to make me overload? Or just hang me on the edge?” Drift asked.  
  
“I was planning to see how long you could last on the edge as well as how long the device worked. I only gave you your overload when you returned here since you couldn’t seem to handle it.” Perceptor teased, smirking.  
  
It soon fell when Drift grinned evilly. “Then guess what I would’ve done.”  
  
“W-what?” Perceptor stammered as Drift leant down close.  
  
“I would’ve either gotten Rodimus or Ultra Magnus to make me overload.” Drift whispered. “Imagine Magnus’s spike spreading my valve wide and hitting me deep. Imagine how deep that spike could go.”  
  
Drift shuddered at the thought, biting his lips before returning his thoughts to the mech currently speechless beneath his thighs.  
  
“So what is this device that you’ve used me to test?” Drift asked, still purring.  
  
“It’s just a simple device that . . .” Perceptor paused, glancing at their joined hips, searching for the words.  
  
Drift then frowned, concerned of the ashamed look now gracing Perceptor’s features. “That? Percy . . . something’s wrong.”  
  
“Nothing’s wrong!” Perceptor snapped. “Sorry. I’ve been having terrible processor feedback and the only way I seem to be able to forget is by overloading myself.”  
  
Drift’s helm tilted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
“Because I’m ashamed of it.” Perceptor whispered, cutting Drift off when Drift attempted to speak again. “The device lets you feel what I feel. It lets me focus on pleasuring you instead of myself. . . Drift?”  
  
Drift was smirking playfully down at the scientist. He leant down, his hands pressing into the strong shoulders and purred in Perceptor’s audial. “I wonder if it works both ways.”  
  
Perceptor’s cheeks darkened even further. “Drift? I-”  
  
“Tell me Perceptor. How do you achieve your overload?” Drift purred, running the tips of his fingers around the lens of Perceptor’s scope. Noting that the hands of his thighs didn’t have any signs that Perceptor used his fingers or hands to overload himself. Wait. Didn’t Perceptor say that Drift felt what he felt?  
  
“I . . . hm. . .” Perceptor could seem to get any words out, turning his gaze away.  
  
Drift frowned softly, trying to think of a way of getting Perceptor away from the ashamed thoughts flooding his processor. “How do I take the device out?”  
  
Perceptor’s gaze snapped to his in surprise. “It’s just merely a ring that sits just behind the valve’s opening on both of us.”  
  
He watched as Drift’s hands expertly found the ring inside himself and softly pulled it out, dropping it off the edge of the berth. He repeated the same action with Perceptor’s one. Perceptor was about to ask what he was doing when Drift pushed his legs to rest beside Perceptor’s helm and turned Perceptor’s hips to him, watching the lubricant drip out of the scientists valve. He gave an experimental lick to the rim of the valve, checking if Perceptor was ok with it. The scientist bucked his hips into Drift, keening loudly.  
  
“I know how nervous you get when it comes to this.” Drift grinned back at Perceptor. “I’m always here if you ever need me.”  
  
“I do not wish to just use you for your valve.” Perceptor whimpered.  
  
Drift raised his helm, smiling back at the scientist. “Like I said, I’m always here if you need me. For anything.”  
  
Drift returned to lapping at the dripping valve, closing his optics and savouring the taste he hardly got the chance to. He squeaked when he felt himself dragged over Perceptor’s frame and pressed flat, legs spread wide around the blocky chassis. Drift tried to see what the scientist was planning, just catching a smirk, before finally finding out what he felt during the meeting. His legs are trapped in Perceptor’s elbow joints and held fast, preventing him from bucking. Perceptor’s spike released from its housing, poking at Drift’s jaw as the white mech moaned loudly.  
  
“Always thought you preferred you spike Perce.” Drift giggled before taking the tip of the spike into his mouth, lapping at it.  
  
Perceptor responded with a groan and a push of his hips, pushing his spike deeper into the warm wet mouth. Drift whimpered when he felt the toy go deeper into him, just barely touching the cluster of nodes right at the back of the valve. He tried pushing back on it, but Perceptor’s grip wouldn’t allow it. The toy was thrust harder and faster, knowing how Drift liked the fast pace. Drift panted and sucked harder on the spike in his mouth, humming loudly. Perceptor yelped and drove his spike to the hilt accidentally. Drift eagerly took it, swallowing around the head lodged in the back of his throat. Lubricant pooled on Perceptor’s chassis and Drift’s hips rocked into the motion.  
  
Drift pulled away, panting and groaning but still pumping the spike. “Frag Percy!”  
  
“Overload for me Drift.” Perceptor demanded, smoothing the expanse of Drift’s back.  
  
Drift took the spike back into his throat, almost screaming around it. In turn, caused the vibrations to make Perceptor start lightly thrusting into Drift’s mouth. Drift’s valve clamped down hard against the toy as he overloaded, pulling his head off Perceptor’s spike and holding his jaw open. He wailed loudly, pumping the spike, not letting Perceptor’s pleasure go. Perceptor growled and transfluid shot from his spike onto Drift’s faceplates. Drift chuckled and leant back down to give Perceptor’s spike one last suck, drawing one last burst of transfluid, before turning his body to see his lover.  
  
“What was with you holding your jaw?” Perceptor asked in concern, pulling Drift to be level with hm.  
  
Drift collapsed by Perceptor’s side, leaning on his shoulder, grinning. “I have the habit of gritting my jaw when I overload. I have actually caused permanent harm doing that to someone’s spike. Still trying to stop it.”  
  
Perceptor reached to the cabinet he kept beside the berth, pulling out a rag to wipe his transfluid from Drift’s face. Drift purred and leaned into the touch, soon taking the rag off Perceptor to wipe his own mess up. Drift threw the rag away, snuggling up to Perceptor’s much large frame. He could feel the content and peace that rumbled through the scientist’s engine.  
  
“Percy, if you ever have that trouble again, just tell me. I would rather you told me than feel like you don’t trust me and do this behind my back.” Drift pleaded.  
  
Perceptor smiled softly. “I will. I was just afraid of what you said.”  
  
Drift snorted. “I would’ve loved the chance to have that spike inside me anytime.”  
  
Perceptor smirked. “I would’ve loved to have seen you squirming in front of them in that meeting. You can be quite a screamer.”  
  
“Hey.” Drift tried to act offended. “I’m not the one who seems to flit back and forth between flirty and nervous.”  
  
“I do put on quite an act before. It just seems to suddenly hit me when I actually interface with someone.” Perceptor meekly explained.  
  
“Aren’t you lucky you have me to teach you?” Drift giggled.  
  
“Yes. I’m lucky to have a temperamental pip-squeak to take to the berth with me.” Perceptor teased.  
  
Drift rolled over, pouting. Perceptor chuckled, curling around and pulling Drift into his frame. Drift sighed and rolled back, nuzzling Perceptor’s neck.  
  
“What made you so against interfacing?” Drift suddenly asked.  
  
“It’s a long story. One that involved very strict creators.” Perceptor replied. “Right now I just want to hold you and recharge.”  
  
“Lets both do that.” Drift mumbled softly, curling further into Perceptor’s frame as they both drifted off into a peaceful recharge.


End file.
